


Some Kind Of Familiar

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Familiar Derek Hale, Familiars, Getting Together, M/M, Witch Stiles Stilinski, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is studying to become a witch. And witches have familiars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Kind Of Familiar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stephcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stephcake/gifts).



> This is a Christmas present for my lovely internet wife [Steph](http://stephstiel.tumblr.com/)! Love you, babe!
> 
> Unbetaed.

When Stiles made the decision to start training as a witch (yes, witch, not warlock or wizard, thank you very much) he knew things were going to change for him. Studying magic in the modern age was somewhat different from back in the day, but certain things never changed.

 

“You're kidding. I get a familiar?!” Stiles almost bounced with excitement, despite Deaton's unimpressed eyebrows. “What is it? Do I get to pick? Is it like a pet? Or a spirit? Please tell me it's not a cat. I'm not opposed to clichés at all, but I am _so_ not a cat person.”

 

Deaton smiled, and _uh oh_ , it was never a good thing when Deaton smiled.

 

“I'm afraid you might have gotten a wrong impressing of what a familiar actually is.”

 

Stiles shrugged. “Okay, well, I only know what was in the books you gave me.”

 

Those eyebrows had like a whole language of their own, and the ones Deaton sported right now were calling bullshit.

 

“Okay, so I might have spent some time on certain untrustworthy websites, but you have to admit that sometimes they're right.”

 

“Such is also the case with circus psychics. They're bound to guess right from time to time. And if you'd put the promised effort into translating those texts I gave you last week, you wouldn't be asking these questions.”

 

 _Dumb_ questions, was heavily implied, and all right, Deaton might be having kind of a point.

 

“But it was in this super obscure type of ancient Greek. Even Lydia was stumped!”

 

“Did I ask you to go to Lydia?”

 

“No,” Stiles admitted, aware he'd fucked up. “You asked me to go to Annabeth Madsen. But, _come on_ , she's like ninety! And she always pinches my cheeks. I bruise like a peach, Doc! And her whole place smells like cabbage and cat pee.”

 

“And none of those things change the fact that she is a very accomplished witch with great experience that you were supposed to learn from,” Deaton said sternly, and Stiles felt his failure all the way to his gut.

 

“I swear I won't ignore your instructions again,” Stiles said, and tried not to be too offended when Deaton snorted at him. It wasn't like he ignored _everything_ Deaton said. Only the things that sounded really awful.

 

“I was about to feel sorry for you in regards to your familiar, but I'm starting to think you might deserve each other.”

 

“What's that supposed to mean?”

 

Apparently it was supposed to mean that familiars were not animals. Not quite, anyway. Instead they were people with special abilities that would compliment and strengthen the gifts of their assigned witch. And they got very upset at any insinuation that the witch owned them. At least Stiles' familiar did. But then again, he looked angry about ninety percent of the time. He was also a werewolf. And hot like burning. And strongly opposed to the whole idea of being a familiar.

 

But it was part of some kind of inter-magical cooperation agreement, and he made it clear in the first ten seconds of Stiles knowing him that he was only doing this because he had to. His name was Derek, and he seemed to take a perverse kind of pleasure in pointing out everything Stiles was ever wrong about.

 

“No, I am not going to _serve_ you. I'm here to help you channel certain spells, protect you, and anchor you. And you'll do the same for me in return.” He said it like the whole idea was distasteful to him, and Stiles rolled his eyes over it.

 

“Gee, dial down the enthusiasm, buddy,” he huffed, and ignored the way Derek glared at him from the passenger seat when the Jeep went over a pot hole. So his baby didn't have the best suspension, big deal. It was character building, that's what it was.

 

“I'm only here because it's my duty as part of the Hale Pack. I'm supposed to be a physical tether to your metaphysical skills. And in return you'll be the human grounding my wolf side when I need to shift for spell purposes,” Derek said sourly.

 

“Wait, you don't have an anchor normally?”

 

“Yes, but as long as I'm stuck with you, I can't draw on my pack. So you're it. And I swear to God, if you don't take your responsibility seriously, and I end up stuck as a wolf, I will pee on everything you love.”

 

“Noted,” Stiles squawked, and drove on in silence.

 

Derek would be Stiles' assigned familiar for a full year, until Stiles was ready to start his apprenticeship, and choose his own permanent familiar. Kind of a demo version familiar, though Derek scowled magnificently when Stiles mentioned that. Derek could scowl all he wanted, all he had to do was stand around and look hot, while Stiles did all the work. At least that's what Stiles assumed, until the day he realized that grounding Stiles' spells was incredibly exhausting, even though Derek looked stone-faced on the surface.

 

Inevitably Stiles began to respect Derek, despite his horrible attitude. And it was incredibly gratifying the day he caught Derek gawping at the fire sprites scampering up and down Stiles' arms as he summoned them.

 

So yeah, they grew closer, until their snarking was more fond than hostile, and before they knew it, the year was drawing to a close. Stiles was going to leave town to stay with his new mentor, and Derek would go back to his family. All that was left was the final summoning circle, for Stiles to complete his first level studies, and then it would be over. Stiles admitted to himself that he would be really sad to see Derek go. Would miss him, even. In all his grumpy glory. Who would have thought.

 

The summoning went well, Stiles didn't offend any mid-level spirits, Derek didn't get stuck as a wolf, and by the time Stiles clapped his hands, dispelling the last of the spell's energy, they were both grinning at each other.

 

So Stiles decided that he might as well go for broke, since he had nothing to lose, and pulled Derek in for a kiss. In hindsight he should probably have waited until Derek was less naked, but whatever. No time like the present. Especially since Derek kissed back.

 

“So,” Stiles panted when they parted, lips reddened and spit slick. “Would you be interested in a more permanent position as my familiar, Mr. Hale?”

 

Derek smiled. Honest to God smiled, and Stiles felt like the damn sun just came up. “I'll think about it.”

 

Stiles was aware that his familiar was an asshole. But as it turned out, he liked him that way.

 

End.


End file.
